Lucius : Lucius Review

by Shannon Smith

In naming their fifth studio release Lucius, the band (Jess Wolfe, Holly Laessig, Dan Molad, and Peter Lalish), invites us to listen and look inward, at them, and consequently, at ourselves. This self-titled album, released May 2, 2025, emerges like a handwritten letter sealed in wax, unfiltered and vulnerable, its sonic palette washed in sunlight and shadow. Recorded between Altamira Sound and Sounds Like a Fire in Los Angeles, it balances the intimacy of home recording with the glisten of professional touch, mirroring the album’s central theme: to be both raw and refined, honest and shaped.

Like striking a match in the dark, “Gold Rush” crackles with the immediacy of a ’70s vibe. The guitar textures, shaped by Lalish, slice through a heartbeat-strong backbeat laid down by Molad, while Wolfe’s and Laessig’s signature harmonies ride the edge of the band’s feel. The arrangement builds in waves, cresting on each vocal declaration. It’s a fitting Lucius-styled song, one that reflects the tone of musicality that ripples throughout the album.

“Impressions” (feat. Madison Cunningham & Ethan Gruska) has layered vocal harmonies floating like breath around the melody, colored yet transient. The track pulses gently, guided by Molad’s restrained percussion and introspective melodic arcs supported by Lalish’s subtle guitar work. Cunningham’s presence is subtle but vital, her voice interlaces with Wolfe’s and Laessig’s like silk threads of a larger tapestry. Gruska’s textural finesse deepens the sonic field, as the band contemplates how identity morphs over time.

“Do It All For You” opens like a window, letting the melody enter—clear, gentle, and inviting. The sparse instrumentation, built on keyboard beds and minimal rhythmic support, places Wolfe and Laessig front and center, exposing the beauty of a lyric steeped in emotion. The song’s restraint is its power, and in this sonic stillness, Lucius proves that space with direction can carry immense emotional weight.

“Stranger Danger” has an interesting harmonic shift beneath the surface. The vocal lines, again led by Wolfe and Laessig’s deeply bonded timbre, tumble gently, matching the lyric’s tension: what does it mean? With Molad’s drumming painting contrast and Lalish’s guitar providing harmonic tension, Lucius finds a bittersweet groove—wary but curious, longing but cautious.

“Old Tape” unfurls in a ribbon of Americana colors. There’s a fuzziness in both production and sentiment, anchored by Molad’s nuanced approach and Lalish’s warm guitar tone, evoking a building song form that transitions gradually into a steady pop-rock selection. Wolfe and Laessig deliver the lyric with nostalgic warmth, while the arrangement becomes a living, breathing memory.

Lucius is an album that speaks softly but insists on being heard. The songwriting is clean without being sterile, personal without becoming solipsistic. Each of the eleven songs feels like a portion of a larger compositional strategy built on emotional authenticity and sonic cohesion. For listeners, it’s a mirror; polished just enough to see yourself in its shimmer.